


After the Sun

by revalise



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Chrollo Lucilfer Smut, Dominance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Famous OC, Luxury, Modern, POV Third Person, Possessive Behavior, Rich Chrollo Lucilfer, Romance, Smut, Strong Female Characters, Yorkshin City | Yorknew City (Hunter X Hunter), strong female oc, with mentions of luxury brands irl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revalise/pseuds/revalise
Summary: Chrollo Lucilfer gets everything he wants, when he wants—even if it means undergoing extreme measures. Nothing bothered him, until an aphrodite, Astra Gerber, appeared one night and stole from the infamous thief. In return that Chrollo doesn't report her, he strikes a deal. But it could be more than what Astra bargained for.
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Original Character(s), Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Original Female Character(s), Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 53
Collections: Hunter x Hunter, Hunter x Hunter Fanfiction, KURORO LUCILFER (Hunter X Hunter), hunter x hunter





	1. Notes & Soundtrack

**_After the Sun_ **

_Chrollo Lucilfer gets everything he wants, when he wants-even if it means undergoing extreme measures. Nothing bothered him, until an aphrodite, Astra Gerber, appeared one night and stole from the infamous thief. In return that Chrollo doesn't report her, he strikes a deal. But it could be more than what Astra bargained for._

* * *

This is a story that came to mind after watching a [Chrollo fancam](https://twitter.com/astrallure/status/1273845230492516353). Unfortunately, I will not be uploading the video itself here as it is not mine. Thank you to @astrallure on Twitter for the wonderful video!

If you have any requests, you may send me a message or leave a message on my AskBox on [Tumblr](revalise.tumblr.com) to protect your anonymity.

_I highly encourage you to vote and write down comments. I love hearing what you think of the story!_

**Warnings**

This story deals with themes of sexual content and some that might trigger some (rest assured I will put a disclaimer in the chapter), such as drugging. Please proceed with caution.

**Disclaimer**

Though the story follows Hunter x Hunter, it will not revolve around it. Meaning to say, some important themes in HxH may not be as important as it is in the story—it may even be irrelevant. Furthermore, there may be inconsistencies with the flow as compared to the original and the story. I ask you to abandon what you know of the original and only focus on the details given in the story.

_I do not own any characters from Hunter x Hunter._

**Copyright**

_All rights reserved. No part of this work or any of its content may be reproduced, copied, modified, downloaded or adapted, without the prior written consent of the author._

* * *

**SOUNDTRACK**   
_(spotify playlist[here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0bUNOQ6JzRfOtrDYOkNFsP?si=78rOGdB4Sn202CXPlNu18Q))_

* * *

**BETA READERS**

[Sky](pixiewombat.tumblr.com)

[Risa](bnha-aesthetic.tumblr.com)

Thank you so much for going through my fic!


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Ellen (4miez), PixieWombat, and bnha-aesthetic on Tumblr for beta reading this chapter!

**APHRODITE**

Chrollo Lucilfer sat alone on the VIP couch Yorktown's favored uptown bar, casually gulping down a glass of straight vodka. It was not like him to expose himself, especially in big crowds, but he couldn't deny the requests of his troupe members. It wouldn't have come this way if it weren't for the coin toss Shalnark did, and they knew better than to disagree.

The Phantom Troupe wanted to celebrate the success of another act played well, and to "unleash," as per Shalnark's words; having fun was something they all deserved after all the work they'd done. Indeed, after only a few minutes, the rest of them were having the night of their lives—well, maybe except for the leader himself and the stoic Feitan who enjoyed himself at the bar counter, drinking all that he could.

Chrollo looked over at Shizuku, who was surrounded by different men that were obviously interested in her, as they flirted, fawned, and tried to impress her. Though she looked timid around them, she showed no fear. He knew she didn't need any help. She could handle it very well. _If it came to that._

"You know you won't enjoy yourself if you keep that up, right?" Shalnark appeared in front of him with a smile and an arm draped around a beautiful girl.

 _'Shit. What a catch. I should've gone for him.'_ The girl clicked her tongue at the sight of a well-dressed Chrollo. He wore his black suit and he didn't have his hair combed back for once. Dark brown orbs lit up when hit with dancing lights, his silver St. Peter's cross around his neck lightly dangling. He looked very manly, like a godwho came down from the heavens. While Shalnark had his visuals, there was a tremendous gap between how he and Chrollo presented themselves. Shalnark looked like a boy while Chrollo looked like a man.

"Nothing in here interests me," Chrollo deadpanned, waving his other hand in a dismissive manner.

"Shall I stay with you then?" The girl Shalnark brought over flashed her charms and spoke with a sweet voice as she blinked seductively, but Chrollo paid no attention to her.

"Come back when we're leaving. I'll enjoy my drink for now." He waved his glass of vodka in his hand.

Shalnark snickered, amused at Chrollo and the mortified pursed lips of the woman beside him. To her dismay, she'd been ignored.

"I'm leaving," Shalnark removed his arm from around the woman. "But I think you'll be having some fun tonight," he smirked and left the woman looking lost and deeply embarrassed at the situation unfolding before her eyes, practically running away.

And so Chrollo tried to enjoy his night alone, trying to amuse himself by drinking to see how long he could go without getting drunk. He'd been pouring himself another drink when a certain figure caught his eyes.

Anyone who observed Chrollo would have perceived him as someone hard to approach. But in truth, that wasn't the case. Chrollo only paid attention to things he considered valuable—from ancient books to scarlet eyes. It had to be _outstanding_ for him to take a look at something, and to want it. It had to be _very_ valuable. He didn't pay attention to any less of that. Since he entered the bar, they could notice how he never tried to associate with anyone else. He sat in his little corner, not giving a damn for anything.

But he watched her with a drink in his hand, observing her every sway. She was draped in a skimpy red dress that hugged her glorious figure, her hands dangling in the air, and her long black hair swaying from her every move.Her eyes were closed as she danced to the rhythm of the music being played in the bar. _Sensational._

Chrollo leaned back in his seat, crossed his legs, and put a finger over his lips. He gazed at her with an amused grin. _She's an aphrodite._

 _Could it be that you're the one I'm looking for?_ He clicked his tongue.

She gave them a sultry smile over her shoulder. He gritted his teeth and his eyes were filled with fury. _Who do you think you are? No one steals what's mine._ He loosened his tie, extending his neck as he did, then took one last sip of vodka before he finally stood up.

He fixed his blazer a little before making his way towards her. He never tore his eyes away from her figure. For him, she was everything he had ever needed. Heavens forbid, he'd break loose if someone took her away. Chrollo watched as men made their way to her, touched her waist and danced behind her.

He took his time in every step as he walked past every woman who tried to catch his attention by touching his arms and even his chest, but his eyes remained on the girl who'd caught his attention. She was by no means like the other women in the place. She was different. Tonight, she was the only one that he wanted more of.

 _I'm getting feelings that I didn't before._ He licked his lips.

The man behind the woman was for sure having a good time. Smirking like he's got her right where he wants her, like tonight it'll be him underneath those sheets. _Too bad he's wrong._ Because when he looked over, meeting Chrollo's threatening eyes filled with fire, he got the message. Dropping his smile and quietly scooting over. Chrollo took his place, swaying behind the woman, mimicking her movements, slowly traveling his hands to her slender waist, pulling her closer. He pressed his lips onto her ear, "If I could have this dance tonight, I promise that you'll never forget it."

"Good things," she smirked and held his hands over her stomach, "You gotta be patient."

Chrollo tightened his grip around her., "Won't you tell me your name, beautiful?"

"Astra," she smiled over her shoulder.

"Astra, I'm Chrollo..." he bit her ear and whispered once more, _"Lead me to your sacred place."_

 _Fuck._ Chrollo cursed mentally as she turned around to wrap her arms around his neck, his hands not leaving her waist. He took in her beauty.

She was a beautiful girl with neutral toned skin and silky black hair naturally curled at the edges, falling just above her waist. Her sultry brown eyes were covered with brown eyeshadow, full lips coated with nude brown lipstick, and she had a perfect jawline. Her skimpy, luxurious red dress hugged her glorious curves.

 _She really is an aphrodite. She's high fashioned._ Chrollo knew she screamed danger; he was falling into her trap. But he didn't care. He wanted her.

Astra leaned over, tiptoeing to whisper in his ear. "We can do whatever you want." A smirk flashed on her sultry lips as she looked over his stunned face.

His grip on her tightened, "Be careful what you say. Maybe I'll put your mouth to good use."

She sucked her lip before giving Chrollo a seductive smile, "Let me head over to the bathroom first."

By the time she left, his prized silver necklace had disappeared from his neck. Chrollo had already noticed beforehand. He knew of her plot and how she executed her actions. After all, he was a thief himself—and a good one at that.

But he let her have it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow updates until Harder (Levi Ackerman fic) is finished.


	3. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Sky (@PixieWombat on Tumblr) for beta reading this chapter!
> 
> NOTE: All characters are humans unless otherwise stated in their description. Hence, Zazan is human in the story.

**BOLD**

“What do you mean your necklace was stolen?” Pakunoda eyed Chrollo carefully as he sat behind his desk at his penthouse, looking over the magnificent, illuminating lights of Yorknew City, while she stood in front of him.

“It just was stolen,” he deadpanned.

Pakunoda clicked her tongue. There was _no way_ someone could steal from Chrollo—a bandit himself, and a good one at that.

She thought to herself for a moment. _‘Is he planning to steal the poor girl’s hatsu?’_

Once, he had charmed the pants off of a girl who could write fortunes and stole her ability. Despite his obvious antics, he wasn’t found out, thanks to the girl’s inexperience. But when he managed to get a hold of how it should be done, he started doing it again and again. 

Pakunoda didn’t complain. Chrollo’s Bandit’s Secret was a trump card, not only for him, but for the rest of the group. When Chrollo noticed the drastic advantage the ‘strategy’ gave him, he started using it more often. To him, it felt like a shortcut.

And who would expect someone so sophisticated and pretty-boy looking?

She sighed and put the folder down on his desk.

Chrollo had asked Pakunoda to find the girl who had stolen his necklace. He remained vague about it, but knowing Chrollo, it might be something extremely important. 

He looked over the files, silently reading their contents, taking them in just as he consumed knowledge from his ancient books. His fingers traced the letters of the name written in bold on one of the pages.

**ASTRA BEATRIZ GERBER**

Pakunoda gazed at him with suspicion. Meddling with this girl could endanger the nature of the group. She was nowhere near a simple girl, alright. The girl spelled trouble.

She was the illegitimate child of an acknowledged former lawyer, Martin Gerber, before he took over the Gerber family dynasty. 

This information wasn’t exactly kept a secret. It was silent gossip within the small circle of socialites and elites. Illegitimate children weren’t news to the circle. Three out of five families in the circle had a case of their own. But it so happened that the Gerber family was known to be conservative—faithful to their betrothed, or as painted by the media.

Nevertheless, it only took that mistake to have the head of the family, Rod Gerber, wavering in his trust in Martin. To his dismay, this almost cost him the whole dynasty. Fortunately, Rod was a good man, unlike his son. To secure his position in becoming the next successor as the eldest, Martin had to keep the child and take her as his own.

It shamed Martin to do so, keeping an illegitimate of his own accord. Though his wife was noticeably against it, she had to agree if she wanted to be the wife of the very powerful man. Cleverly, she argued that it would bring discomfort to her family if the child were to live in the same house as them. Rod then agreed that Martin would just have to sustain the needs of the child in the mother’s care.

Chrollo took all of the information in, almost feeling bad for the girl, if it weren’t for his own experiences. 

The same thought as Pakunoda had crossed his mind. Her father had connections in law. If Chrollo, say for example, met the girl’s father and he decided to look deeper into Chrollo and his background, it wouldn’t really be a problem. The group knew how to cut their ties. They eliminated those who had seen them. But if worse came to worst, this could have blown the group’s cover. 

The Phantom Troupe weren’t regular thieves. They were thieves with intellect that calculated their every movement. Before they acted on anything, Chrollo, who had a personal philosophy of theological dualism - the balance between good and evil - that influenced his decisions, would first weigh his options. His actions were always calculated.

It was not that they feared the law or the man himself, but the Phantom Troupe managed to blend in with the crowd, no one knew of who they were. And the group loved being free despite the criminality they commit.

From the moment he first laid his eyes on her, he knew she was trouble.

But none of the information stopped him.

* * *

Zazan promised Astra dinner. But it was way past dinner, and the staff of the three-star Michelin restaurant she had booked kept going back and forth, assisting and asking for her order, which she refused to give until her aunt arrived.

Her aunt, Zazan, was her father, Martin’s, little sister. For all her life, she was her mother figure. Zazan always had her back whenever her father didn’t. Her aunt loved designer and luxury items, and was a designer herself. Hence, her love for luxury and designer.

To state it simply, Astra was given to her aunt after she lived with her dad for two years when her mother died. She was only six then.

She remembers how much scorn she received from Martin’s legitimate family, and how she was treated as less than a freeloader, being an illegitimate child. Not once did her father defend her from them.

After all, she was a nobody, aside from the Gerber blood running through her veins.

Astra, at four, never spoke with anyone, not even the maids that served the family in their mansion. She remained quiet, hiding inside her room, but doing everything she was told—even standing for hours, with no food and water, beside the silver knight decorations in the hallway of their house because her older half-sister told her to. She ignored the numbing sensation in her knees until a helper saw her.

That was, until Zazan returned to the city and took interest in the meek, little girl she once was. And for the first time in two years, she spoke and her voice sounded hoarse. Her words were: “Can I come with you?”

From then on, Zazan took her as her own. Martin had no objections, nor did his family. In fact, the situation was in their favor. In his father’s eyes, as long as Astra wasn’t disobedient or brought problems—more than she already had, being an illegitimate—upon the family, it’d be fine. 

However, it seemed Astra grew up to be a spitting image of Zazan’s personality. Astra grew bolder, braver, and stronger, all because she had Zazan to look up to. But Astra wasn’t nice on a daily basis. She was nowhere near a saint.

“May I take your order, miss?” a smiling boy, who looked a few years younger than Astra, came to assist her. But a girl, wearing the same uniform as him, came to them, gripping his arm.

“Sorry, miss.” The staff leaned in closer to the boy’s ear to whisper, “I’ve been trying to take her order. She’s waiting for someone, but I think she got stood up.”

“Oh...” the boy muttered “Too bad, she actually looks pretty.”

He turned his attention to Astra, about to apologize, when she interrupted him.

Astra laced her fingers together, her elbows on the table, and rested her head on her hands. With a sarcastic tone, she said, “If you’re going to talk _shit_ about me, consider doing it somewhere else where I can’t hear you.”

“S-sorry, miss…” the staff muttered, afraid. All of their customers had power, because only the rich could afford the place. They feared they could lose their jobs. Most of all, they knew who Astra was. They knew of her influence.

“But thanks for complimenting my looks.” Astra flashed a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “Get me some champagne.”

They scurried to give her what she wanted, too obvious in wanting to leave her sight.

Astra leaned on her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. She clicked her tongue in impatience. For once, she regretted asking for champagne. She felt the urge to leave. To elites like her, hunger didn’t come, anyway; she’d still have a lot of food at home. She could leave before they gave her champagne, and leave cash three times the bill, but her pride made her stay.

And she hated to admit it, but she really needed to see her aunt. She needed _someone_.

She needed someone to hold her at times she felt like slipping away.

As Astra waited impatiently, a man sat at the opposite end of the table. It happened so quickly, she didn’t have the time to process it. The man looked studly in his crisp suit. He wore a white shirt underneath, topped with a dark blazer and slacks.

“I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” He asked in his most polite tone while he pulled at the opening of his blazer.

Her eyebrows shot up and she clicked her tongue, but she tried to maintain her composure. After all, it was a restaurant for the high-class. Manners above all.

“Sorry, you must have the wrong table.”

The man chuckled. “Oh, have you forgotten about me, miss? Allow me to reintroduce myself,” he grinned, “I’m the man you stole from a few nights ago.”

For a moment, perplexity was etched on her face, _‘Bitch, which one?’_

Yes, the man looked a little familiar, but with the amount of people she was acquainted with, it was hard to keep track of the long list. 

“Oh, I see,” she said plainly. “I must’ve stolen from you when I was drunk.” 

Astra leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. She whispered, “You see, I have a habit of doing _those_ when I’m drunk.” She flashed her sultry smile. 

Her hands reached for her fuchsia devotion bag made of python skin. It featured an exclusive bejeweled personalized heart closure, inspired by the techniques of fine jewelry, which etched her initials in it.

**ABG**

Astra clicked her tongue when her eyes met her initials on her bag. She laughed inwardly at how she sent it back to Italy when her initials weren’t in **bold**.

“How much was it? I could pay for it right now.”

The way the man grinned at her assured her that it’s done for. Game over. She wins. Whatever she did, she got away with it. Not because of her pull and connections, but because of her charm. And she knew it. She grinned at this. 

“Actually,” the man began, “I have other things in mind.”

“Oh,” Astra had a knowing smirk. She knew of what the man could possibly ask. It was no different. He was no different from all the other men she’d met before. _‘A night, perhaps?’_

“Let’s hear it,” she said sultrily. 

It was the man’s turn to lean closer and rest his elbows on the table. He laced his hands together and flashed a smile. “I was thinking of jail time.”

Her hypocritical smile dropped. She was rendered shaken. Just as quick as the change in her mood, the sourness and bitterness of being embarrassed in front of the mysterious man in front of her, she showed her true colors. 

_‘Where the fuck is my champagne?’_ she thought.

Her back rested on her chair and she crossed her arms. “Name?” her tone was as rude as it could get. 

“Now we’re talking,” the man chuckled, and he rested his back on his chair as well. “Chrollo Lucilfer. I believe I already told you that. I’m hurt you forgot about me so easily.”

Astra didn’t reciprocate the demeanor Chrollo was showing. While Chrollo looked composed and polite, Astra, on the other hand, was irking in anger. 

“What do you want?” she spat, so rudely you wouldn’t think that it was the same woman who had been flashing sultry and inviting smiles.

“Nothing much, actually,” he grinned but it didn’t reach his eyes. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll discuss the matter, and I promise you it’d be done with.”

If it were only a few minutes ago, she would have gone with him at that very moment. She would’ve taken him to some backroom and let them do their business. But it was different now. 

To her, it seemed like the man didn’t want any physical relationships. He was danger, nothing else. 

“And if I refuse?” 

“Your scandalous actions will not only be known by your father, Martin Gerber, but your little circle as well,” he replied.

“I’m impressed. You’ve done your research about me,” she scoffed. 

One of the staff who assisted her earlier appeared with champagne in her hands. She kept her head down, but kept a shy smile and gave continuous glances toward Chrollo as she poured the liquid into their respective glass.

“Thanks, miss,” Chrollo flashed the girl a sweet smile. 

Astra could have sworn she saw the girl almost curtsy at that. She rolled her eyes. 

When the girl left, Astra arched her brow. Chrollo on the other hand, ignored her demeanor. “Shall I order you some real food?” 

He was about to call the staff again, but Astra stopped him. “I’m not hungry.”

For a moment, Astra almost regretted her actions because Chrollo might be hungry. But if it’d be the same staff who keep annoying her with how they tried to get the man’s attention, forget it. 

_‘What is with this restaurant anyway? Why are they always the same people?’_

Once the foam settled on her champagne, she drank it quickly, picked up her bag, and stood up. When she looked over at Chrollo, who still sat on his seat gazing at her, she scoffed. “I’m coming with you. Wait for me outside in a moment.”

“You’ve said that before,” he replied, reminiscing to when she said the exact thing when they met the other night, and then she was gone with his St. Peter’s cross necklace.

“You seriously have something on me. Do you think I’ll run away from you?” Astra argued. “Besides, you’ve done your research on me. So I expect you to appear wherever I am.”

“I don’t believe you,” Chrollo stood up. “Wherever you’re going, I’ll come with you.”

Astra rolled her eyes. If she didn’t have something, it would obviously be his trust. And she had to get it no matter what, if she wanted to get out of the situation quickly.

She turned on her heel and Chrollo followed closely behind her. Suddenly, something rang from Chrollo’s pocket when they stepped out of the restaurant and into the lobby of the luxury hotel. Astra turned her attention to it and then to his eyes looking back at hers. 

“Go,” she nodded at him in a dismissive manner. “I promise I won’t leave.”

Chrollo eyed her carefully, weighing the sincerity of her words, to which she responded with widening her eyes at him. There was a faint smile in Chrollo’s face before he finally took his phone out and turned his back on her. 

Astra lightly shook her head. She didn’t notice, but there was a small smile on her face as well. And just as if the timing couldn’t be more perfect, someone she knew all too well appeared in front of her, looking down at her, _mocking her._

“Dad…” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please don't hesitate to leave a comment and/or kudos. It means a lot to me!


	4. Chapter 2

**CONSEQUENCES**

There are three times Astra remembers disappointing her father.

Sure, she’d been doing that for a lot longer but those three times were the ones etched in her memory to never be forgotten.

The first time, Astra decided to take up Interior Design instead of Engineering, which her father had chosen for her beforehand. 

They were aligned with law, politics, medicine, and studies that make their name. And to be a Gerber is to follow the rules set for them by their father; to be of use and bring praise to the family. It ran along their lineage, and no one deviated from it.

A family stays with you through tough times. Rooting for you and cheering you on to go further and take on the world as they guide you and keep you from falling. But not _this_ family.

There is no room for failure. And it certainly meant no room for her.

Astra did not fancy making buildings upon buildings. The thought of having to toast her brains out with bricks, cement, and the hammering of nails did not feel suitable for her. Though she’s been told it wasn’t exactly necessary, she just couldn’t fathom the thought. 

If it didn’t allow her to wear her killer heels for the rest of the day, she’s out of it. 

However, she did fancy making a life out of establishments. The beauty inside, as she dramatically called it. She thought it’d be better to pursue something she likes, instead of something that did not appeal to her. 

Unfortunately, her father thinks otherwise. 

The second time, she told him that she’s going to try show business. 

Martin lashed out then and gave her a reprimanding. To even think of joining that _world,_ where everyone stepped on each other, interacted with hypocrisy, and filled with scandalous issues would be such a shame for the family. A _disgrace._

Many wouldn’t know the reason why elites are so against show business. But then again, not many knew how much of a _whorehouse_ it could be. 

Young ones, coaxed by the industry, think of it as how they regard the night stars in the sky. But they forget their feet that’s stuck in the sewer. Only when they’ve fallen hard do they realize how deep they’ve sunk. Or how they couldn’t take those times back.

Ignoring her father’s comments and great disapproval, she continued anyway. 

Despite her rising popularity, she didn’t realize the weight of the responsibilities it required. Thankfully, she was popular enough to only settle for modeling. Occasionally, she pairs up with a few girls from her agency to sing and dance to an original song. It wasn’t exactly an official group and was only meant for publicity, so it didn’t require too much work. The jobs she took with her big paychecks would be enough to sustain her personal, lifestyle, and social ‘needs.’

Lastly, when she refused to marry the man her father chose for her. Martin thought, if he couldn’t get anything from Astra because of her stubbornness, it’d be better to marry her off to some man who’d be of use to him. 

All that ended to an embarrassment between both families when Astra decided not to show up, too hungover to even move. Not that she planned on meeting with the man anyway.

Three disappointments, and it caused their already tarnished relationship to rift further. 

To Astra, it was absurd that her father thought he had complete control over her. 

Who was he anyway? He was just some man who screwed her mother and left her pregnant until his mistake blew up in his face. He was just some man who slapped her with counselling with strangers when it hadn’t occurred to him that maybe his daughter wanted to talk to him instead.

She didn’t have the perfect role models to look up to. But she certainly was not a fool to obey someone just like that. She was sure to never take the path someone else had decided for her.

_Astra Beatriz Gerber only belongs to Astra Beatriz Gerber._

Yes, she felt bold after all the times she went along with her wishes, rejecting her father’s commands. But she knew that after all that, she’d never get her father’s approval for anything again. 

Martin, despite all the sunken wrinkles on his face and silver streaks against his raven hair, stands tall right in front of her, mocking her very existence.

And Astra felt small. 

“What are you doing here?” Martin asked gruffly. The simple question sounding as if a question of mockery. 

A chill snaked down her spine. She snickered inwardly, laughing at herself that her father still had _that_ effect on her. 

That his approval is still something she yearns for even after all these years.

She felt the need to clench her first to calm herself down. There was something about her father’s atmosphere that makes her crumble every time. There was something about his demeanor that felt icy cold and biting against the skin, taking all the warmth she longed for. 

Perhaps it was the way he spoke in such a manner, so formal that no trace of familiarity could have alluded. But it wasn’t as if he’d treated her like one. 

She teetered inside in stillness. He wasn’t always that way. He wasn’t always as distant as he was. Yes, there was always a gap between them, but it wasn’t as bad as it was now. She didn’t need to ask to know why. It was due to all her repeated disobedience.

Clicking heels sounded against the marble floors, its veins illuminated by the golden, luxurious chandeliers above. Their gaze shifted to the source.

Margaux Gerber, her older sister.

While Margaux looked elegant and sophisticated clad in all white, Astra looked rather odd in the picture with her bold choice of colors.

Margaux had an elegant aura about her. It’s in every piece of clothing she wears and every word she says. Whatever she did, she always looked superbly classy and luxurious. 

It translated into the suit dress she wore, accessorized with golden buttons and chains, stopping until her mid-thighs and paired with matching white platform pumps. Her tone is a lovely sound, gentle, and calming as rain.

Her long, black, silky, and straight hair was side-parted with a pearl clip, giving her a look of femininity. A dainty necklace surrounded her smooth neckline and the matching earrings dangled from her ears. 

In contrast, Astra looked odd against Margaux with her off-shoulder black mini dress with see-through balloon long sleeves and red ankle-strap platforms. 

Everyone who knew the two sisters would see the vast difference between them. While Margaux received all respect from her peers and colleagues, and even strangers she passed by, Astra was only paid admiration - worldly admiration. 

It was clear as day she lacked the gifts her sister possessed.

Astra tried hard to hide her feelings, the pounding of her heart pounding against her ears and the rushing of her blood against her veins. 

She hadn’t seen her family in two years. Hadn’t heard from them in two years. Never even received an invitation to family dinners since the last time she disobeyed her father.

Her father’s presence was enough to melt her, turn her into dust to be taken by a gust of wind, and the addition of her sister made it even worse. 

The sister that ignored her very existence and only looked at her with distaste. 

She felt dizzy, nauseated, too small, and too large at once.

Astra tried to contain herself. She took slow and deep breaths, calming her fast-beating heart. 

But anxiousness was mixed with perplexity when she watched as Margaux sauntered alongside with a familiar face she knew. The familiar face she was only conversing with earlier. From the looks of it, they were acquainted.

Anger boiled within her blood, and it perplexed her why.

“Dad,” Margaux elegantly greeted her father with a smile that showed off her perfectly white teeth, ignoring her sister’s presence even as she watched her. 

Margaux's gaze shifted from her father to the man beside her, Chrollo Lucilfer. Her hand made its way to Chrollo’s arm, locking it with hers, her fingers tightening around his biceps. “This is the one I was telling you about.”

Astra’s brow raised upwards. A grin spread across Martin’s lips as he formally extended his hand with a deep, old chuckle, “I see. I see.”

Chrollo reached forward to shake Martin’s hand, in the process untangling Margaux’s arm with his.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from my daughter,” Martin’s voice was deep and formal, different from the icy tone he used with his daughter.

 _“Oh, please,”_ Margaux chuckled and rolled her eyes but with a smile on her face. Astra wanted to vomit at what she witnessed. She mouthed the same words from Margaux’s mouth with a face and roll of her eyes. 

“Likewise, sir,” Chrollo politely replied with a last shake before shifting his gaze to Astra, who put no effort in hiding both her curiosity and displeasure, standing beside Martin. And though they were close in space, the invisible barrier between the father and daughter couldn’t be avoided. 

“Will you join us for dinner?” Martin followed with a question.

The way Martin spoke to Chrollo, with all his fake politeness, made it evident to Astra that this was more than just a casual talk. She knew nothing about business and the way connections worked and how it was built, but she could tell that her father was up to something with Chrollo. She just couldn’t quite put her hand on it.

However, Astra hadn’t exactly been stellar with all her guesses in the past. That mere fact was enough to make her drop all her doubts.

“I would’ve loved to. But I’m afraid I’ve already had dinner with Astra,” Chrollo replied. No ounce of fear or intimidation etched on his face.

That only made Astra wonder more. 

Most would fall into her father’s intimidation and end up embarrassing themselves, especially young ones like Chrollo who’d done nothing to prove themselves just yet - or as she thought.

Like Margaux, Martin also had an aura about him. A _very_ intimidating one at that. One could say that it came from their father’s influence.

“Astra?” Martin didn’t try to hide the undercurrent of curiosity as his brow shot up. 

“Astra, sir,” Chrollo found his way towards Astra before casually slipping his hand around her waist, “is a _very good_ friend of mine.”

“Oh?” Martin narrowed his eyes, his wrinkles creating lined dimples across his face. 

If he was shocked at the revelation, it didn’t show. And Astra knew better than anyone how controlled her father’s poise was. 

Margaux, on the other hand, raised her brow and her blood throbbed. Darkness flitted across her eyes as she stared at his arm around Astra. 

Astra couldn’t help but savor the perplexed faces of the two. The way Martin’s brow furrowed and the way Margaux’s disposition suddenly braced for defense, like she’d been exposed to something she shouldn’t have. 

“You know each other?” Margaux's voice was hushed but marked by vehemence. She forced the corner of her lip to twitch upwards.

A wolfish smile tugged on Astra’s mouth and she prepared whatever lie she could muster to annoy her sister. A long list of lies clouded her mind. 

The best lies were always mixed with the truth. 

But before words could come out of her mouth, Margaux spoke yet again to finish her sentence, “Chrollo?” 

It hadn’t been her who Margaux had been directing her question to. Astra rolled her eyes in irritation. 

_‘You evil witch,’_ Astra hissed and cursed her sister in her mind. 

If Margaux did it on purpose to embarrass her, she wouldn’t put it past her.

Chrollo glimpsed at Astra, who had her gaze in the opposite direction with a frown, before shifting it towards Margaux to reply with a vague answer, “We met under certain circumstances.” 

But Chrollo’s answer wasn’t enough to quell her curiosity, and Martin interceded before she could ask again, “Margaux,” he said calmly, stopping her.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” Martin said. 

“The pleasure is mine, sir,” Chrollo flashed a smile. 

“Please,” Martin chuckled, “call me Martin. I have a feeling we’d be well acquainted.”

Chrollo laughed from beside Astra, “I sure hope so.”

Martin’s gaze shifted towards Astra, to her surprise, “Astra,” he said acknowledging, his eyes lingering on hers. 

Margaux turned to examine her as they strode past before shifting away to look at the lobby ahead.

“Now about the deal,” Chrollo started once the two disappeared completely from their sight, his index wiping the corner of his mouth. 

“About that,” Astra started. The feeling of what had just happened still rushing to her veins. “How about we do it next time?”

Chrollo’s brow shot upward, “Why?”

She turned her head to him, flashing an impish grin, “I have something better in mind.”

“No,” he replied flatly, making her frown.

“Then leave me alone,” the impish tone from earlier had gone missing from her voice. “Threaten me. Say whatever you want to say to ruin me. I don’t care. People are always going to talk shit about me. There’s always another version of me in someone else’s mind. So I’d rather listen to the people who know me best instead of someone who has only seen me twice. It won’t hurt me.”

With that, she stalked past Chrollo, who’d been dumbfounded at her sudden outburst. 

Had she gone mad? Had she forgotten what Chrollo held against her?

Chrollo dashed to walk alongside her. His gaze didn’t bother shifting to her, only to the vast length of the lobby before them, “Fine. What is it you want?”

Astra ignored him but a smirk played on her lips. Of course, she won again. She quickened her pace to the elevator, eager to dash to the room she rented until she could go back to her place. 

Once she’d gone inside the elevator alone and pressed the button to her floor, she watched as the elevator doors slowly blocked her view of the golden majority of furniture and red carpets in the lobby, until a quick hand stopped it from closing.

Chrollo fixed his blazer with a tug before sauntering inside, settling on the opposite corner from where Astra stood. 

“I want to go out tonight,” Astra said.

“Okay,” Chrollo replied impassively.

The elevator then started moving up, up, and up. Though Astra found it odd that Chrollo had been quiet beside her and didn’t shoot him a glance.

Why hasn’t he been talking?

“What is it with you?” She asked sharply, crossing her arms as she turned her body to him, who stood perfectly still in calmness. 

Chrollo didn’t answer.

“ _Wow.”_ She prolonged the word with amusement before rolling her eyes as she flipped her hair, “You followed me, stalked me. And for what?” 

Chrollo furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing yet again.

Astra scoffed. She moved forward, each step with screaming arrogance, “Yes, I’m Astra Gerber. What do you want? A picture?” she mocked.

Chrollo didn’t reply, irking Astra even more. 

Not only did she have a confusing reunion with her father and sister, but she had also been entangled with this mad lad right in front of her.

“Aren’t you going to answer?” Astra poked Chrollo’s arm again and again before she yelled so loudly, _“Hey!”_

With the timing of her yell came the ringing sound of the elevator before it opened. The color on their face paled as they were greeted by Astra’s… questioning manner. 

Astra’s head whipped towards the door as she saw the horrified faces of those waiting outside. 

She cleared her throat and slunk away, making sure to confine herself in the corner, while Chrollo stayed on the other. 

Her fingers reached for the sunglasses in her bag, which she donned as she hid her head sidewards as a throng trickled in, blocking her access to Chrollo. And she made sure to keep her head down to avoid locking gazes with anyone. 

The elevator went up, up, and up, until Chrollo and Astra were left alone together with another passenger who caught the situation with Chrollo. An elderly woman turned to glare at her, a look of disapproval written on her face. She was all too aware of the sharpness the lady was giving her; she could see it in the mirror on the sides of the elevator, which is why she made an effort never to turn away from the corner. Let the others think she’d been admiring herself all along.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw a glimpse of Chrollo’s reflection in the mirror behind the lady. And she could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smile across his lips. But before she could relish in the sight, the elevator bell rang and giggles from the opposite side seeped in the enclosed space. The elderly woman stepped out.

The titters were from a body of personnel, who made an effort to even bow their heads slightly at the sight of Chrollo. Their voices blended against one another, “Good evening, sir.” 

Astra rolled her eyes, _‘Why only greet him? I’m a guest too.’_

Chrollo dismissively waved his hand as he flashed a smile, “Good evening.”

Astra’s eyes narrowed as she caught a glimpse of a blonde-haired girl who smiled maliciously and batted her eyelashes at the man. She didn’t try to be discreet when she scoffed, making them shift their heads in her direction. Not even when Chrollo stepped out of the elevator with her as she wrapped her arm around his, giving a snakelike smile to the women who seemed interested in him.

To her surprise, Chrollo didn’t have the intention of inviting himself to Astra's room. She tilted her head to the side to ask why, only to be given a smile and a polite gesture to escort her in her chamber before he parted, promising to return in a few hours.

Astra couldn’t quite contain herself when she slumped on her bed with a wide grin on her face, her hands spread upwards just like her legs. The sudden warmth in her chest hadn’t worn off yet. 

It took her a few good hours to get herself ready. She picked a dress plucked out of the stars. And she’d twirled enough in the mirror to know how it looked good on her, accentuating her strong features and her molten eyes. 

Only when she heard the soft knocking did she step out of her dream. The warm sensation from her chest traveled to her stomach as she met with the man she’d been expecting. 

When Astra mentioned that she wanted to celebrate tonight, Chrollo didn’t think twice about accompanying her. But it seemed that Astra shrugged off his kindness when she decided to stray away, leaving him for himself to look for her.

The flashing and the quick changing of lights illuminated the darkened club. A throng of strangers danced and flocked around Astra. She swayed her hips, closing her eyes as she felt the rhythm of the music pulse within her senses. The alcohol's effect sinking deep inside her veins.

“For someone who relies on my good graces, you’re certainly bold,” Chrollo’s deep, raspy voice whispered in her ear as a large hand snaked around her thigh, pressing the thin material of her dress so harshly against her skin.

“You’re very selfish, aren’t you?” Chrollo hissed, his breath brushed against the crook of her neck as he held her from behind. 

An impish grin flashed across Astra’s lips as she let out a sultry chuckle. She whipped her head to the side and her nose touched Chrollo’s, a hair’s breadth separated their lips. “The world is wide open. And _mine_ for the taking.”

A hush fell between the two and the world went mute around them as the crowd faded into the background. She was all too aware of how close their faces were, but she couldn’t bring herself to shift away.

Chrollo’s black eyes glowed with want as he watched her. She was something out of a dream. 

He felt a pang of desire through him so strong it took all his self-control to keep himself from taking her. But he didn’t want to give her a night she could regret. Not when she’s in her high. 

Astra felt a palm press against her stomach, feeling the warmth it deigned before it slid upwards gradually. It passed in between her breasts, and she fought the urge to bite her lip. She felt the warmth wrap around her neck softly. Soft enough to avoid entirely disrupting her breathing. 

He wanted her so bad, it hurt. But he didn’t want it to stop.

Chrollo tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She breathed, so softly that her lips barely moved. 

He found himself closing the short gap between them, turning her chin in his direction with the hand he used around her neck. He looked at her once more as if asking for permission. Astra’s starlit eyes found his, making his blood thrum in his veins. 

She slowly closed her eyes, and he took in her beauty once more. Her long lashes, red lips, and straight nose. 

Chrollo’s sudden appearance. Chrollo’s bargain. Chrollo’s relationship with her family. 

She didn’t have the faintest idea of what any of it meant and how it happened. 

And why was he treating her like a damsel? Had he noticed how her father and sister ignored her? Had he been acquainted with Margaux even before her? Is this a plan?

Questions like that should’ve been clouding her mind. But she was too indulged with the fact that standing before her, was the most beautiful man she'd ever met.

Astra turned to twine her arms around his neck and his eyes blazed with hunger. Though she was tall, her neck ached as she matched Chrollo’s gaze with his height, but it abated once Chrollo’s hand found its way to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. 

Never mind the crowd around them. Never mind the questions that’ll follow after. Never mind the sharp gazes Margaux sent her. Never mind the mysteries surrounding Chrollo.

Consequences be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, don't hesitate to comment or kudos! It'd mean the world to me to hear your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a little hard time with the characters because this fic is forcing me to created too many OCs to fit a character because of they do not fit any canon characters from the anime.
> 
> Check the updated Spotify [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0bUNOQ6JzRfOtrDYOkNFsP?si=78rOGdB4Sn202CXPlNu18Q) and give it a follow if you want to get a better idea of the fic and just listen to good music! /hj

**FOOL’S GOLD**

Astra’s phone rang continuously from the nightstand as she laid in her bed, asleep on her stomach, arms wrapped around the side of her head. Soft, comfortable, and clean white sheets kept her from waking from her slumber.

No, she hadn’t woken up from all the chaos that awaited as the sound of her ringtone filled the entire room. Rather, she had woken up to a loud banging on the door of the hotel room. 

She kicked away the comforter that covered the sheer nightgown that wrapped her body. Hissing under her breath with closed eyes, willing herself to fall asleep once more. But the banging only continued, loud and louder until she had no other choice to get on her feet, open the door, and let out a stream of vicious curses at the source. So she wore her irritation on her face, stretched in all the edges, lined with her features that screamed beauty all throughout. 

Astra grasped the metal handle, the coldness biting back on the smoothness of her skin. Then a familiar, vexed face met with hers. 

“What have you done?” His strained voice erupted against the room. He hadn't waited for her to invite him in. No, he walked past her the moment she opened the door.

He was clad in purple-worked wonder, though a bit too fancy and too flashy for the morning.

“What have you done?” Satotz repeated once more as he sagged on the red ottoman. 

Astra crossed her arms, arching a brow and turning to face him. “What do you mean  _ what have I done?”  _

“Miss…” a timid voice said from beside her. Too timid, too small, and all too shy. 

She shot a side glance at the source, revealing Khara. Astra’s brow rose upward, “What?” she snarled.

* * *

Khara blinked at the anger and irritation that seeped from Astra’s tone. It took all she had to stop herself from staggering backwards and to appear unintimidated, but it was all too hard for her—all too hard since she’d started working with her.

In truth, Khara looked forward to working with celebrities and being their assistant. And she's been excited to work with Astra. But at Astra’s first wave of a hand, she commanded her to do things she wasn’t sure were included in her job description. Or if it were, it consisted of driving half-across town for the food Astra wanted, subject to her cravings, and coming back to the packing and darkening lights of the set as the staff shut them close.

Astra would snap her fingers once, and Khara would be inclined to come rushing forward in hopes of avoiding the unnecessary lashing out of the lady. She was only a few years younger than Astra, but sometimes, she wondered if she were the older one. 

Khara handed a newspaper to Astra, fighting the shudder that shook her hands violently. Her head aligned with the level of her chest as she bowed low and extended her hands. Despite all her efforts, it still showed, making Astra snicker and roll her eyes in response. 

Astra strode towards the couch beside Satotz, sitting casually and gracefully, and ignoring the poor girl that was left just outside the door. Khara didn’t say a word, but her face contorted in embarrassment. Her short, black hair and bangs—that she got on a whim because she felt old—kept in the way of her sight. She blinked twice before inviting herself in, but as she did, the familiar perfume she’d memorized all too well invaded her nostrils. 

“Good morning, Khara.” 

Khara whipped her head around as her heart hammered in her chest. 

“G-Good morning, sir,” Khara stuttered, earning a subtle chuckle from Wing, who just so happens to be Astra’s brother. 

As rude and as bold as Astra was, Wing was the complete opposite of his sister. He talked with grace and utmost respect, bred like that of those who grew up in their father’s mansion. The way he talked, as Khara would have described it, was smooth and quiet. Polite.

He was very handsome. Tall and lean with raven-black hair just like his sister. Dark brows that accentuated his eyes.  _ Those eyes.  _ Khara swallowed. 

One slow, deliberate examination was all it took for Khara to determine the hard muscle that lay underneath his clothed arms. But somehow, he’d always leave his shirt untucked. 

“You don’t have to call me, ‘sir,’ Khara. Just Wing will do,” he flashed his white teeth in a smile. 

“Okay…” She blushed at the mention of her name and hesitated, “...Wing.” She smiled, and she hoped it didn’t come off forced and awkward. 

If Wing found it indifferent, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he only reached a hand over, “Let me help you with that.”

That was when Khara realized the paperbag of coffee dangling from her fingers. Quickly, she shook her head, “It’s okay! I can do it.”

He gave her a friendly smile, “No fair maiden should be carrying anything at all.”

Khara swore, she could have died right then and there. Could have. Only if the sharp memory of Astra making her carry her entire luggage didn’t obliterate her. 

At the sole thought of Astra, she yelled from inside the room with utmost impatience, “Khara, did you get my coffee?”

Khara paid a quick glance at Astra, who was eyeing a magazine in her hand as she sat alone on the big, red velvet couch with gold wooden outlines, her feet resting on the coffee table that stacked the same fashion magazines she’d been reading. Completely ignoring Satotz who was massaging his temples from the seat beside her. 

She gave Wing a tight smile before rushing over to Astra and opened the small lid for her. Astra paid her no attention as she sipped her coffee. 

* * *

Wing invited himself into Astra's room. The first to notice him was Satotz, who widened his eyes at his appearance. Immediately standing up to greet the young lad and shaking his hand, the other clapping on his shoulder.

“Good morning,” Wing greeted.

“Yes, yes. Good morning,” Satotz smiled in return before beckoning Wing to take his seat, even dusting off the cushion with his bare hands.

Astra paid her brother no attention as she scanned the magazine that rested on her thighs. Wing braced his forearms on his knees, giving Astra a polite smile, “Good morning to you too, Astra.”

She didn’t even bother to look up at her brother when she replied curtly, “What’s good about the morning?”

Satotz could only bite his lip in nervousness as he shooed off Khara, making her scoot over.

Oh how interactions with Astra bothered her so much.

Fortunately, Wing was unlike his sisters. Perhaps it was because he was a man and had no interest in the drama surrounding their family, but whatever issues Astra had with her family, he stayed out of it.  _ Women and their dramas. _

If Satotz could properly put it into words, Wing was probably the only one in the family who could stand Astra. Even when she had her series of attitudes.

He only smiled, proceeding with another question, “How are you?”

Astra raised her head this time, brows creasing as she gave Wing a look that basically said ‘ _ Why are you asking the obvious?’ _

“Woke up a bad bitch,” Astra said as she shrugged. “What’s new?”

Satotz issued a rather nervous laugh, hoping to snap Astra out of her misbehavior, “Astra just woke up. That’s why.”

Wing turned his attention to Satotz, seemingly unbothered by Astra, “May I ask your business with my sister, Satotz?” he asked politely.

Satotz felt a faint warmth in his chest, touched that the younger Gerber remembered his name. As he recalled, Astra’s family scorned the thought of show business. Therefore, he wasn’t well received in the family though he promised to answer their questions whatever it was.

But the calls stopped two years ago, when Astra found herself in too many dating scandals. Astra never asked, but Satotz knew she was curious if her father ever called to ask about her. 

“Well,” he cleared his throat, switching to a rather serious tone as he pulled his phone from his pocket and displayed a picture of Chrollo and Astra looking a little too friendly—way too friendly. “This has been all over social media, tabloids, and insiders.”

* * *

Astra took a good look at the headline, reading loudly for them to hear, “Astra Gerber with  _ another  _ guy?” she almost yelled when she said the penultimate word. 

She creased her brows as she took the device, reading the entire article, “And what is wrong with that?”

“You just had a dating scandal last month!” Satotz exclaimed. 

She pinched her nose with her fingers, “It’s not my fault they love to start rumors and men love to jump on it.”

“And how come I don’t know any of this? It doesn’t benefit anything. Not even promotions,” Satotz added, ignoring her remark.

“Not all,” Wing grinned with an underlying meaning that piqued Satotz’s interest, tilting his head to the side, beckoning him to keep talking.

“Actually,” heturned his body towards Astra, “Dad sent me here to invite you to dinner tomorrow.”

“Dinner?” Satotz asked.

Wing nodded, “He didn’t say anything else, but it seems he’s interested.”

* * *

Astra’s heart pounded mercilessly. Her Dad wanted to see her? It felt unreal, but she didn’t say anything. She pretended to be interested in the comments instead, snorting and sneering at some of them.

_ [+128, -19] what’s new lol _

_ [+154, -98] I feel bad for these people. Just a dating scandal and everyone’s at it like they killed someone  _

_ [+92, -23] right? lol if normal people can do it too why not them _

_ [+19, -2] ew _

She arched her brow on the last one before typing a comment in reply. 

“Hey, don’t say anything! That’s my account!” Satotz tried to reach for his phone but Astra brought it up higher. 

_ I’m sorry your screen is so reflective,  _ she typed. As soon as she hit ‘reply,’ she took notice of the comment posted right underneath the one she replied to. 

_ [+429, -19] i feel bad for all the lipstick that guy had to consume… he doesn’t deserve that >< _

_ [18, -1] LMAOOOOOO _

Astra would never admit it, but she almost laughed. Satotz thought she might reply to another comment and swiped the phone out of her grasp, reading the comment for himself. 

He couldn’t help but cackle, almost choking on his coffee. Khara peered from his side, taking a peek at the device. 

“Now  _ that  _ is funny,” Satotz laughed. 

Khara grinned shyly, “Is it? I guess it is.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah,” Astra crossed her arms and gave a sly smile, “but if I find that person, they’re dead.”

Khara remained silent throughout the whole conversation. 

* * *

It was still too early for Chrollo to inhale his second stick of cigarette as he looked over the city from the tall building where his empire stood. 

He wore his three-piece suit as he held the cigarette with his right hand, the other tucked inside the pocket of his slacks. 

From this distance, Chrollo could feel how far he'd come from the slums of Meteor City. He was no longer that boy who scraped off whatever could be salvaged from garbage. 

Chrollo Lucilfer was now a bachelor. Rich and young. Just one snap of his ivory fingers and whatever he wants is his. Everything he did was calculated. Careful and clever. He couldn’t care less about arriving at his own judgment day, but he would never want to endanger his friends.

But last night was a mistake. 

It took all of Chrollo’s self-control to pull away. The moment he felt something inexplicable was the moment he realized there was something wrong with him.

Usually, he gave the ladies gifts to keep them from complaining once he lost interest. But that night, he realized how  _ genuinely  _ he wanted to give Astra something. 

He puffed out smoke when he recalled her words. He had pulled away and she wore that sultry smile. That sultry smile and that mouth that needed reminding of where it belongs.

_ “You be very careful,” she said slowly as she ran her hands down his blazer, straightening it. “I like you. And you see,” her eyes met his, challenging and batting those long lashes, “I have a habit of always getting what I want.” _

Chrollo reached for the silver necklace he usually had around his neck, only to feel its absence. And he remembered that he still has yet to obtain that necklace back from Astra.

The door groaned as it opened and Paku’s voice echoed through the big office, “You should see this.”

* * *

Astra was already an hour late for dinner when she stood right outside the manor. Her family’s chauffeur took her red Bugatti to the parking lot when she stopped in front of the big, carved double doors embellished with golden markings that extended from one side to the other. 

_ Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat _ was engraved in stone against the header, clean and written in cursive.

She licked her red lips as she smiled, remembering the meaning of what her family believed in for so long, “Fortune favors the brave.”

Even in the darkness, the manor shone brightly with the unnecessary lights as if it dared to rival the stars. She circled her fingers around the metal handle, flexing, until finally pushing it open.

Astra roamed her eyes around the interior. The first thing she noticed was how much none of it seemed to change. The house was designed with white and mahogany. A little too old for her liking, but everything about it screamed ‘old money.’ 

“Welcome home, miss,” Zeno, lowered his head at Astra as she entered. 

_ Home,  _ Astra snorted, laughing at the idea.  _ Nah, not that. _

She masked her face with merriment, the corners of her red lips twitching upwards, “Old age suits you perfectly, Zeno.”

Zeno's face was lined with wrinkles—a lot more than how she used to remember. His hair had turned silver, hunched shoulders, eyes a little watery, and the bags that rounded them looked saggy. 

Even in his old age, she could still point out how he was her father’s  _ favorite.  _ She didn’t know exactly why, but Zeno had always been around her father. Always.

A compliment teased along Astra’s tongue regarding Zeno's loyalty to his father, but she bit back on that action. It wasn’t about Zeno's loyalty to her father, but his loyalty to her grandfather.

“Heh,” Zeno huffed, his face concealed with neutrality. Despite his old age and the difference in appearance, eloquence impacted his voice, not an ounce of fragility coming from the old man. “I see you’re still the same as ever.”

He turned to the side, extending a hand sidelong, “This way, please.”

“If you’d please,” Astra curtsied, mimicking Zeno’s formality only to tease.

Astra walked her way with the majordomo. Occasionally, she stole glances from the interior, comparing and checking how each used to be from the last time she remembered. She stalked past the elegant, absurdly expensive pianoforte in the hall. Shining jetblack in color with outlines of gold in its edges. A memory crossed her mind of playing with its keys and how her piano teacher used to yell at her for not understanding the lesson sooner. 

A child from a rich family should be able to play at least one instrument.

Then she paced through bigger chandeliers as Zeno stopped along the opened double doors to the dinner hall, keeping his gnarled fingers clasped together as he stood upright. 

“Thank you,” Astra mouthed as she entered, earning a terse nod from Zeno himself.

Martin sat at the head of the long, rectangular table—accented with a velvety red linen—to his right was his wife and Astra’s stepmother, Emilia, followed by Anais then Margaux, while Wing sat on the opposite side. Astra took notice of the empty seat beside her father on his left and right beside Wing.

“Oh, there she is,” Anais, her stepsister, jeered, rolling her eyes as soon as she spotted Astra.

Anais was the eldest in the family. And she had always been mean to Astra. A few pranks here and there that servants in the manor often felt bad for Astra. But one summer night after spending a whole year with Zazan, Astra pulled her big sister’s hair and Anais learned to keep her distance.

Astra simpered, her red Loubotins clattering against the marble floors. 

Emilia scoffed at the scene and Astra’s swagger, crossing her hands. As if Martin could sense an insulting remark from his wife, Martin spoke, “Astra, you sit beside me.”

Astra almost stopped on her feet, surprised at the offer, but she knew all too well not to let go of the chance. Besides, she had a lot of covering up to do after being so obvious of how she shuddered in Martin’s presence. She had to scratch that truth out.

“Why thanks,  _ Daddy,” _ her tone was honeyed, teasing even, as she kissed her father’s cheek before slipping into the chair.

She eyed the clean plates in front of her before her brown eyes flickered over Anais, meeting her dark gaze before she broke it with another roll of the eyes to which she only smirked at. 

“So what’s the big occasion?” She whipped her head at Martin, flashing him a big smile that boasted her perfect, white teeth. 

“Can’t I invite my daughter over for dinner?” Martin’s voice was dry but the usual tone he often used when trying to intimidate someone was present in it. He kept his gaze on the empty plate laid in front of him, taking the silver utensils from a housemaid 

_ “Aww,”  _ she teased, bracing her forearms on the table. She gazed up at her father with a snakelike smile that painted her face, stretching her sensuous red lips. “Is it that time of the year where you complete your bucket list?”

Martin glared at her while Wing stifled a laugh from his seat. Margaux only reached for her glass of wine, sipping quietly.

“You’re still as  _ rude,  _ as ever. I see,” Emilia said, narrowing her eyes at Astra as they sat across each other. “There are some things that never could be changed from the slums.”

Astra eyed Emilia, taking in her perfectly tied blonde locks and intimidation in those green orbs. But she merely smiled and said, “You say that like I didn’t live in a villa named after your husband before  _ this family _ took me under their wing.”

Emilia set her utensils down, so harshly that the plates rattled,  _ “You  _ are a child born of  _ wedlock,”  _ she drawled. 

“Actually,” Astra clasped her fingers together to rest her chin, giving her stepmother a teasing grin and flashing her perfectly white teeth, “I’d rather you call me a  _ love child.” _

“That is enough!” Martin yelled, his voice deep and threatening before he shifted his gaze over to his angered wife. “Emilia,” he said, a little softer but reprimanding.

It was a little odd that Martin came to Astra’s defense. Though it perplexed Astra, she didn’t ask. 

Martin’s usual punishing brown eyes were soft when it met with Astra’s. Those same brown eyes were the definite proof that she was his daughter. But despite the softness he tried to show, there was still that seriousness exuding from out of it. Business. Formality.  _ Transaction. _

“Astra,” Martin dabbed a cloth over his lips before setting it down. “How are you?”

Astra’s hands found its way to the utensils, “Fine.What else?” She said as a matter of fact.

“Attention seeker,” Anais muttered, giving Astra a conspirator’s grin before she took a bite. 

She only chuckled, unaffected and amused, “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be a celebrity.”

“I heard from Satotz that you’ve been quite free lately,” Martin interrupted.

“Yes,” Astra pricked the steak with her fork. “I’m sort of on a vacation.”

“I see,” Martin replied. It took half a minute before he followed, “With Lucilfer?”

Astra remembered that she got two things from her father: those brown eyes and his iron will.

The iron will they both have to get whatever they want.

“Oh, is  _ that  _ what this is about?” The amusement and arrogance vanished in her eyes as her tone dropped.

“We’ve been trying to get Lucilfer on our side for about a year now. This is an important matter.”

“But he’s still so young,” she reasoned. If she remembered it correctly, young men don’t hold much importance until they’ve proven themselves—and that only happens when they’re as old as her father.

“But he holds some sort of importance,” Martin waved his hand. “And we need him.”

A warmth that swelled from her heart began to burn in her chest—a jealousy for a man she didn’t even know. She didn’t know exactly why her father needed him, and why he was so eager to. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

But if having Chrollo Lucilfer meant having her father, then she’d do everything in her power to make him hers.

Astra said nothing as she set her eyes down on her plate. As she realized that this wasn’t about her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably my least favorite chapter and I did have a hard time writing this because of my writer's block. I started writing this around the end of August and finished it only last week. 
> 
> But anyway, we move to my favorite parts starting from the next chapter! I have to say that this is my favorite work though, so I may or may not be paying attention more to this.


End file.
